


A Tribble for Your Thoughts

by rainydayadvocate



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Chocolate Box Exchange 2018, Fist Fights, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Tribbles (Star Trek)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 20:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13578390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainydayadvocate/pseuds/rainydayadvocate
Summary: Spock and McCoy are sent down to a planet for a routine prisoner retrieval mission. Unfortunately, a tribble manages to find its way on board, and their Klingon prisoner does not take to the creature's presence too well.





	A Tribble for Your Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Highlander_II](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highlander_II/gifts).



> I re-watched _Beyond_ because I adore the dynamic between Spock and Bones there, and I was trying to come up with a situation where I could follow the prompt for "wacky hijinks" that had a similar kind of chemistry. I hope a handful of tribbles suffice!

Bones was not fond of away missions. He especially disliked away missions that required the use of a small spacecraft, rather than the transporter, and included Spock. And only Spock.

Well, and now that they'd completed their mission, also a Klingon.

"Doctor, I am detecting another life form on board."

"The one that came on board with us?" He nodded to their captive. Bones didn't love that they had the man in handcuffs, but he was taller than Spock and, well, built like a Klingon. Something in his eye told Bones he didn’t want to be there, and it seemed best to have him cuffed. "Pretty sure taking possession of a captive we were sent to retrieve increases our life form count."

"No, Doctor," Spock said. Bones suspected Spock’s eyebrow was raised, so he did his best to not look at him. "I have already included our new passenger as an expected life form. There is a fourth."

"A fourth? Spock, we got off the shuttle, we sealed the door. We got back on the shuttle, we sealed the door. How exactly would another life form have just ended up on this ship?"

Spock, in a rare moment of what Bones decided was self-doubt, re-ran the calculation and shook his head, glancing back him. "How I cannot say, but the scanners are picking up an unidentified life form on board with us."

The Klingon muttered a reply. Unsure of anything he said, Bones brushed him off, assuming it was an insult. He had worked hard to learn very little Klingon and to avoid extraction missions. Clearly that had worked well for him today.

Jim's voice crackled over the console. "—not going—can't allow you to board with—on board with you—know that." This particular planet, its entire atmosphere rife with storms, caused major interference between the Enterprise and the surface, and currently their shuttle (which was why they couldn’t use the transporters). Though finally approaching the outer layer of the planet's atmosphere, they’d found a high-atmosphere storm that was picking up speed and still interfering with communications. The viewport shone in violent shades of green and gray, blasts of lightning preventing darkness.

"Affirmative, Captain," Spock replied. "We will investigate and report back."

"Get out—storm—careful," Jim said before losing the connection.

Bones took a seat in the co-pilot’s chair and ran a hand over his face. "A fun time, he said. A chance to enjoy solid ground, he said. I should have known better than to answer when Jim rang me this morning. I’d considered pretending to be asleep." He threw his hands up and let them smack into his lap.

"I would suggest, doctor, that now is not the time to give in to theatrics. We simply have an extra life form on board. Upon identification, we will know if this creature is something that come with us onto the Enterprise or must be returned to the surface."

"Spock, where exactly do you expect to find another life form in here? This isn't much ship!" Bones motioned to the walls of the cabin. Their away-mission vessels were all small. The cockpit of the shuttle had pilot and co-pilot chairs. The rest of the vessel, directly behind the cockpit, was a row of internally facing seats along each wall—five on one side, three on the other. Next to the three seats were the lockers full of respirators, space suits, and other emergency equipment. Beyond the seats was the door mechanism and the door itself. End of ship. "If we find a lizard, I will—" Bones paused while he thought of a few satisfactory ways to kill a lizard.  
Before he had an ideal answer, Spock said, "Most lizards would be too small to be picked up by these scanners. I would expect the creature to be the size of one's palm or larger."

"Again, Spock, look at this ship. Where is this animal going to hide?"

Spock raised an eyebrow, not as high up as he did when confused, which meant this was the equivalent of an eye roll. "Perhaps it would be best if we attempted to locate said creature instead of hypothetically deciding it can’t be here," Spock said, opening the locker closest to the door. "There are no creatures in here, and now we know where not to look again." He continued to the second locker before climbing onto the seats to check the overhead bins.  
Bones sighed and surveyed the Klingon, who had been very quiet. It was possible he didn't know English. Even as widespread as English usage had become in the Federation, as far as he knew, that did not extend to Klingon space. Then again, he may simply be annoyed that he was captured and transferred to a Federation ship. The man did finally turn and meet Bones's gaze. His eyes were cold, vengeful, and the scowl on his face bolted Bones out of his chair simply to break the gaze. "All right, let's find the creature and get out of here."

"I am pleased you have decided to offer your assistance, doctor," Spock said, practicing his best Vulcan sarcasm. Bones had never met another Vulcan who employed sarcasm as a rhetorical tool, and he had always meant to ask Spock if it was a habit he picked up from his mother. But asking him would have required small talk with Spock, and he hadn't been drunk enough to attempt that in at least six months.

After completing the search of the upper bin storage—uneventful except for when Bones stepped on the hem of the Klingon's shirt and he growled—Bones retook the co-pilot's seat and surveyed their craft. "Are there any other compartments that we are not aware of?" he asked.

"I expect your speculation is correct," Spock agreed. He stood at the back of the ship, arms folded, looking around the cabin. The storm had picked up outside their shuttle and a crack of lightning took aim at a corner of the hull. It jostling them to the left, but it wasn't alarming, even for Bones and his fear of flying.

Bones shook his head, unsure of where else to search. He spun the chair around to face the console, ignoring a second bolt of lightning, as he re-ran the biometrics. "Maybe it was just a glitch and we—damn."

"Doctor, the usage of the curse 'damn' is not descriptive, particularly when it is a word so frequently a part of your vocabulary. I would appreciate it if you elaborated."

Bones shook his head and spun his chair back to look at Spock. "We no longer have four life forms on board. We have six."

Spock frowned. "I do not understand."

But the Klingon apparently did understand—English, that is. He stood, his eyes darting around the entirety of the cabin, shaking his head. "QI'yaH, yIHmey!" he hissed.

Bones was at a loss and met Spock's gaze. "How's your Klingon?"

"Unfortunately, I have always depended on Lieutenant Uhura's knowledge of their language."

"Figures. Without a translator, I would guess he’s unhappy that the life form count has increased. I'm not too thrilled about it, either."

"I am inclined to agree with you."

The Klingon, uncomfortable standing between the two of them, returned to his seat, but looked uneasy. His eyes darted over the entire cabin while his shoulders slumped and feet tapped. It was very un-Klingon-like. Bones, while watching his tapping feet, saw that the panels below the seats did not seem to quite line up. He knelt next to the seat closest to him and tapped the panel. It pushed in slightly before extending out to reveal a drawer. "Look. More compartments." This first one held old candy wrappers. He found an intact chocolate bar buried at the bottom and stuck it in his uniform pocket; the shuttle wasn’t that old and it was definitely still good chocolate.

Spock joined him in the search of under seat drawers, though most appeared to be food supplies, a few red-shirted uniforms, and a stack of data pads loaded with what was mostly likely Jim's questionable reading preferences.

There was only one drawer left to check, and it was the one directly underneath their Klingon captive. He had realized this as well, and met their gazes while shaking his head. "Qar. VIH vIleghjaj. Ghu'vam DeS jIH DuHbe'," he muttered, his voice devoid of the usual gruff, raspy undertones of his species. He sprang to his feet and sat in the seat next to the lockers. He leaned his back into the locker instead of the seat and brought his feet up so his cuffed hands were pulling his knees to his chest.

"Fascinating," Spock and Bones said in unison.

Bones opened the drawer, immediately met by a chorus of coos and purrs. Flatbread wrappers were in tatters at the bottom of the drawer, and four—yes, another one—tribbles sat happily cooing on the remains of their reproduction-inducing meal. "Spock. They're tribbles." Bones lifted them out of the drawer, handing two to Spock and taking the other two himself. He closed the drawer and sat. The Klingon cowered and refused to look at them.

"This does easily explain the growing numbers." One of the creatures nuzzled its fuzzy form into the palm of Spock's hand. The show of affection raised the Vulcan’s eyebrow high.

"I have been missing the one I had. Poor thing, taken away for medical testing."

“It had been dead on your desk for months before the serum revitalized it.”

“Not important.” Bones stroked the fur on both the tribbles. They cooed happily.

Spock looked ready to ask something, but the comm came on. "Away team, report. Any news?" Jim asked, sounding clearer than he had on their first call.

Bones adjusted his furry companions and walked over to the console. "Jim, yes, we've located the extra life forms."

"Forms? Plural?"

"Affirmative. It was a tribble, Jim. And now it's four tribbles."

"Tribbles? No, Bones. Those are not coming on this ship."

"Need I remind you that—"

"If you tell me one more time that a tribble saved my life, you'll become Chief Janitorial Officer. The tribbles need to go back to the surface. Do so as quickly as you can and return to the ship. Copy?"

Bones sighed. "Copy."

"Good." Jim clicked off.

Spock stood, one of the tribbles having worked its way to his shoulder. "I believe, then, it time to change course and return to the surface so we can dispose of these furry animals." He took the tribble off his shoulder, which brought the creature closer to the Klingon. Once it was a foot from their still-cowering captive, the tribble erupted in a loud, squealing noise, as if in pain. "That is curious." He pulled the tribble close again and it stopped.

"They appear to like our friend as much as he likes them," Bones said, joining Spock and holding out one of his tribbles. It, too, broke into a fit of squeals when too close to the man. But this tribble's warning cry affected the rest of the group, and soon they were all squealing in alarm and reeling upright. "What the hell, Spock?"

"I'm afraid I have to concur with that situation assessment, Doctor."

Unfortunately, their traveling companion was not perplexed, and he reacted the way anyone would expect a Klingon to. He jumped up to his feet in a slight crouch and clenched his fists. With a growl, she pulled his arms apart, the snapped cuffs falling to the floor. "'ej qo', 'oH pagh vItlhap!" he screamed, only escalating the tribble squeals, now closer to howls. He dived for Bones—the tribbles, more accurately—and as his large hands clamped down on the furry softness of the tribble, his weight and momentum drove them back into the pilot's seat. Bones crashed into the arm rest with a grunt of pain, knowing that would leave a very unpleasant bruise, and tried to wrangle the Klingon off of him while keeping the tribbles out of his reach. "Spock! A little help here."

Spock put the tribbles down on a seat and tried to approach, but the Klingon, prepared for resistance from behind, surprised him with a kick that sent Spock down onto the floor, sliding until he bashed into the door.

Bones sighed. Spock wasn't knocked out, but he was slumped and wouldn't recover right away. The sheer mass of the Klingon made it hard to move from his pinned position on the armrest, which was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, so he attempted a distraction. He moved the free tribble around so it was behind the Klingon's head and let it squeal right in his ear.

The distraction worked, and the Klingon abandoned his squeeze attack on the first tribble, but he reacted more violently than Bones expected. He spun to try and grab the other tribble, but as he did so, the Klingon lost his balance, crashing into the console and hitting the throttle, sending them at maximum speed barreling forward.

Abandoning the tribbles with a toss, making them bounce onto the seat, Bones kicked the Klingon in the stomach and smacked him away. Once clear of the console, Bones expected easing back the throttle would be a simple task. Unfortunately, the force with which the Klingon hit the console had pushed it so forward it was stuck. "Spock!"

The Vulcan was on his feet again and Bones could sense him closing the gap. He reached around Bones awkwardly, and Bones realized Spock was trying to get in position for a Vulcan nerve pinch. "I really don't think that's going to work on a Klingon."

The two men thrashed, banging into the co-pilot’s console and seat, and occasionally kicking Bones. He tried to ignore them, still yanking at the throttle, hoping to get it out of its dangerous position. After some wiggling, he realized it had come off its track, and a gentle nudge to the left snapped it back in place. Bones pulled the throttle back towards him and slowed the ship.

They had fallen into the lower atmosphere, but still no where near the surface, mercifully.

Unmercifully, a massive hurricane filled the shuttle's viewport, and they were getting driven into the circling upper levels of the storm. "Spock, not to keep hounding you, but could you please subdue him? We're about to get swept into a hurricane." Bones tried to steer them in a different direction, but it wasn’t any good. The ship was starting to spin and sweep into one of the hurricane’s angry tendrils.

Spock did finally manage to get a nerve pinch on the Klingon, but all it did was make him angrier, which was delightful. He pushed Spock back into Bones's lap. The Klingon, eyes bloodshot with rage, came at them and aimed for Spock, but he ducked, and the punch landed on Bones's jaw instead.

So not only did he have _Spock_ in his lap, but now he couldn't see straight, think straight, or get the purple splotches out of his vision. Great. Bones wasn’t sure, but he thought the shuttle had also started to spin.

Spock had reached his breaking point, though. Once he was steady enough to stand again, he did so and hit the Klingon with a massive swing of a punch. The violence surprised the man enough that the punch hit him full force in the cheek, and Spock got in a second to his nose. Nose bleeding and eyes rolled back, their subdued captive slumped to the floor, legs awkwardly sprawled between the the two pilot seats.

Bones rubbed his eyes and found Spock panting in the co-pilot's seat, his feet on the Klingon's stomach. His vision was still blurry, but Bones was pretty sure Spock looked proud of his punch. "You're a lot more interesting when you give in to your human impulses."

"While I appreciate what you apparently think is a bonding moment, I think it is imperative that we do not get pulled into that hurricane."

"Oh, right." Bones had nearly forgotten about the hurricane. In fact, the strongest thought in his head was how much he was looking forward to getting back to the Enterprise and giving himself pain killers. Luckily Spock was better off. He flicked the controls to the co-pilot’s console, and waited for their spin to face them away from the hurricane. He punched the throttle at high-speed in the opposite direction, clear of the hurricane and back among the nice calm thunderstorm.

Bones spun to look at the tribbles, who had wiggled together in the front seat. He grabbed the largest, supposedly the parent of the others, and gave the creature a soft stroke. It cooed in return and he held it close. None of them seemed concerned about an unconscious Klingon, and had given up their squealing. "So, who insulted whom first? You or the Klingons? Wait, don't answer that."

"It does seem to be a rather, shall we say, intense mutual dislike," Spock said.

"I agree," Bones said, sighing. "I would really like having another tribble."

"I believe the captain was quite clear about the lack of possibility of letting them on board."

"Yes, yes, I know. I know." He returned the tribble to the others—there were now six of them—and he leaned back. "Let's take them back, wish them the best, and get back to the Enterprise."

***

Jim met them in the docking bay when they finally arrived tribble-less and with their captive back in cuffs. Jim boarded the shuttle and motioned to the Klingon sprawled on the floor between the seats. "Had a good day, then?"

"One of our best, Jim. One or our best." Bones clapped Jim on the shoulder and stepped over the unconscious form on the floor.

Spock also stood and greeted Jim and said, "I think it's safe to assume that Dr. McCoy is being facetious."

Bones laughed at Spock without looking back. There were pain killers and a bottle of scotch calling his name.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I know nothing about Klingon. I used a translator. If you're curious what I'd intended the Klingon's lines to be, here are the phrases I put in the translator:
> 
> 1\. Curses! Tribbles!
> 
> 2\. Oh, no. Let me move. I cannot handle this.
> 
> 3\. World murderers, I can't take it!


End file.
